


The Road to Nowhere

by unendingexhaustion



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, MGiT, Modern Girl in Thedas, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, Reluctant Hero, Self-Insert, taking liberties with fictional biology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2020-03-02 09:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18808297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unendingexhaustion/pseuds/unendingexhaustion
Summary: Gods. Demons. The actual, literal, no-holds-barred apocalypse. I've been spat out right in the middle of this mess and told to "change things for the better" and what have I got? A sweet new tal-vashoth body, and....a half-finished art degree. Great.Well, at least being in charge is Lavellan's problem!





	1. Surprise! Time for Responsibilities!

**Author's Note:**

> As the document title says: Y E E H A W 
> 
> I know everyone and their mother's done this trope, but I'm just here to have a good time my dudes.
> 
> (Formerly titled "All's Fair (in Art and War)"

 

Waking up was odd. My memory of the past few days was mostly nonexistent, and what impressions I did have were bad. Apocalyptically so. Smoke and despair screaming and pain, like Fate had read some Robert Frost and decided that yeah, fire sounded pretty good. The last clear impression I had was of everything slowing down. I had the sense that I shouldn’t have woken up at all, that the steadily growing gaps between my breaths had been a prelude to the inevitable final stop. The fact that I was conscious at all right now was kind of throwing me for a loop.

This was not what I’d expected death to feel like. In all honesty, I’d thought it wouldn’t feel  like anything at all. A pure cessation of existence, the snuffing out of consciousness. This, on the other hand, was just weird. And disorienting. Not having a body will apparently do that to a person. My surroundings were a sort of not-color, black and white at the same time. The color of nothing. But does nothing become something when there’s someone around to observe it?

Lost in this particular trailing line of contemplation, the voice that came out of nowhere absolutely startled the shit out of me.

“CHILD.” It said, ringing with timeless power, old and young and male and female and none of those things all at once.  
“Euagh!” That’s pretty much the gist of my response. Eloquent, I know.

With a shudder, the nothingness that surrounded me dissolved into a familiar setting, and I had a body once again. I was seated on a large rock at the bottom of a wooded ravine, a small brook babbling peacefully around the debris of its bed. I knew every inch of these woods, countless afternoon adventures made sure of that. I knew that if I turned my head, at the top of the ravine would be a familiar backyard. A tree long since dead and cut down, a swing that broke when I was twelve hanging from its branches. The yellow sides of my family home, the garden my mother carefully tended every year. The summer leaves rustled in the trees, the yellow sunlight gleamed off the damp stones. I didn’t turn my head. The crunching of underbrush told me someone was coming up behind me. They sat. I kept staring at the water.  
“If you took a face from anyone I know, I’m gonna punch you.” I mumbled.

“Don’t worry. You will know it, but it will not cause you pain.” The voice still had undertones of that awful, cosmic power, but it had toned itself down. Female, low and soothing. I braced myself and turned to face whatever entity this was. And stopped. Oh wow, yeah. Whatever this was? It had my subconscious absolutely _nailed._ Sitting next to me on my favorite rock was Galadriel Artanis, daughter of Finarfin, Queen of the Golden Wood. Just as I’d always pictured her, from the day I first heard Lord of the Rings aloud. If there was ever someone who was going to escort me into the next life, I’d want it to be her.

“Ok. Who are you?” My voice came out squeakier than I’d wanted. Not-Galadriel just smiled and shook her head.  
“I know you have questions. The answers, however, depend upon your choice here. You have a strength within you, a power to divert the path of worlds. A power to raise up gods and monsters, to save civilizations or steer them to ruin. It is not an easy task, but I must ask you. Are you willing?” Her gaze was ice cold and piercing, holding me rooted to the spot.

I was a deer in the headlights of an eighteen-wheeler. Oh no. No. Bad call, universe. Daydreams are supposed to stay just that! I don’t wanna be a Chosen One! I’m basically a Jane Doe! Fuck! Slowly, hesitantly, I opened my mouth.  
“Does it have to be me?” I don’t really have blood, not here, but I know I’ve gone white. Not-Galadriel’s eyes softened.  
“There were many others with this strength. Thousands, in fact. You, however, were the only one who could be reached. The only one to resonate at the correct frequency in the song of the cosmos. The skeleton key in a hall of a million doors.” She reached out, put her hand on my shoulder. For some reason, I didn’t expect it to be warm.

I rested my chin in my hands, staring at my distorted reflection in the clear water below. Frizzy brown hair, blue eyes. Kinda fat. Pasty in the way only someone who doesn’t get enough sunlight can be. Not exactly hero material.

My voice was small when I finally spoke. “So...I could...help people?”  
“Or destroy them. But you have a good heart, and good intentions, so I trust that you will not.”

I, for one, know what they say about the road to hell, but I wasn’t about to question what was probably some kind of deity. I squared my shoulders. The words caught in my throat, the sheer weight of them like stones. Forcing them out was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

“I am willing.” 

* * *

 

Her face remained serene, but the wave of approval that radiated from her was palpable. She blinked, long and slow like a contented cat before continuing.

“You will know the worlds you travel. Others have heard their echoes across the void, brought their tales to you thinking them nothing more than stories. Your journey will be long and difficult, but your foreknowledge should prove some comfort.”

As she spoke, my quiet forest faded away, replaced by a vast and foggy hall. Silent ranks of grey stone pillars stretched on unending, their tops lost to slowly drifting clouds. Four mirrors were arranged in a shallow arc in front of me, their ornate frames tarnished by time. My own face, four times over. Other than that, I was utterly alone. The universe really knows how to play to my sense of aesthetic, I’ll give it that. Not-Galadriel’s voice drifted through the utter silence, yet somehow failed to break it.

“Choose. Your original body is gone, and very few would trust a houseless soul.”

In the space between thoughts, the mirrors changed. Now, none of the women staring back at me were myself, and only one of them was human. Oh god. (Hm, maybe put a hold on that expression for a bit.) Well. She was right about me knowing these stories, going by the species on offer. Looks like the Fix-it express has left the station, first stop: Thedas!

From left to right, the mirrors showed a dwarf, a human, an elf, and a vashoth. Each of them were familiar, just similar enough to me to be unsettling. Their features changed subtly every time I looked away, like they hadn’t settled on who they were yet. Not-Galadriel’s command reverberated in my skull. Choose. Oh boy, character creation.

The dwarf was stocky and tattooed, the human’s wide hips and broad shoulders mirroring my own. The elf, slender and willowy, and the vashoth, tall and full of predatory grace. I’d never played a dwarf before, not in Origins or Inquisition, so that would probably be a bad call. Humans are a solid base, but would garner the most suspicion. No family, no past, no knowledge of daily life? That’s a recipe for immediate distrust from those around me, so let’s put her by the wayside. Elf? Hard no on that one. As much as I’d always loved elves, being one in Thedas would put an immediate stop to my quest. The first harsh word from someone more powerful than me and I’d be finished. I’m too much of a people pleaser, elf-me would end up living out her Thedas days as a servant or laborer, constantly afraid of displeasing her superiors. Looks like vashoth it is! They’re a mystery to the other peoples of Thedas, and a tal-vashoth with no knowledge of the Qun’s inner workings wouldn’t draw too much attention.

As soon as I reached my decision, the other three mirrors vanished. No going back now, I guess. I looked up at what would be my new face. What a weird thought. Her features solidified as I noted them, settling liquid-like into permanence. Her skin was a pale silvery grey, and a pair of hefty horns that curved like a ram’s sprang from just above her temples. Their smooth black surface matched the clawlike nails that tipped her fingers. I tilted my head. Vashoth-me mirrored my movement, her long white braid sliding over her shoulders. I blinked. She blinked, blue-green irises a stark contrast to her black sclera. She was maybe seven feet tall, lithe and muscular. The fighting stance I took looked natural on her, and her body flowed through the experimental punches and kicks I threw with more grace than my human body had ever managed. Yeah, this could work. Besides, I’d always wanted horns.

I cleared my throat.

“Hey? Anyone there? A little more info would be great, y’know? Could I get a timeline? Maybe start with, uhh…how to get there?” No answer. Great. I’d never been a huge fan of going into things blind, but I guess that’s how it was gonna be around here. Typical deity behavior, only around when it’s convenient. With one last nervous glance around the infinite hall, I reached out and gingerly poked the mirror. The surface rippled, and with a flash of green light, I was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's My Writing?  
> 1-800-leave-a-comment
> 
> (ps: suggestions for a better title Very Welcome)


	2. will the real chapter one please stand up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our protagonist names herself and is released into the wild.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completely unbeta'd, so feel free to point out any glaring technical errors.

The next thing that registered in my brain was the feeling of my skull becoming intimately acquainted with the ground. Fuck, but that hurt! I actually saw stars for a moment there. What had to be the Fade warped and twisted around me, it’s impossible geometry only contributing to my headache. A few hundred feet away, another figure lay sprawled out on the stony ground. I pushed myself to my feet and swayed, dizzy. A quick check of the back of my head found my fingers coming away bloody. Hopefully our buddy over there’s not a demon, because a light breeze could probably knock me straight over right now. Only one way to find out! I took a step forward... and immediately tripped over my own feet. My reflexes were barely enough to keep my face from crashing straight into the dirt, and my new wrist shrieked with pain as I landed on it wrong. Oof, point taken, body. Slow going until we’ve figured out how long our legs are. 

Once again, I managed to stand up. My legs were shaking, my wrist cradled awkwardly to my chest. The back of my plain tunic was becoming uncomfortably damp with blood, and I was pretty sure that my double vision had less to do with the Fade and more to do with my brain playing bumper cars with my skull. If that person’s a demon I was about to be  _ incredibly  _ dead. I picked my way across the uneven ground, paying close attention to where I put my feet. I’d had my fill of falling over for today, thank you very much.

It seemed like forever before I reached the crumpled figure on the ground. I’d mostly gotten my limbs under control by the time I got to them, which is the only reason I didn’t end up on my ass yet again when they suddenly groaned. Sharp green light crackled and snapped around their right hand, an ugly gash bleeding pure energy slashed across their palm. The Herald! A knot of tension I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying suddenly released. This was the Inquisition timeline, then. Okay, I can work with that. No Blight for this gal, no sir. And no Gallows, either. Not to mention no sudden death via demonic dismemberment! 

Another pained noise from the future “Herald of Andraste” brought me back to...well. Not reality. The Fade. But close enough. At only a few feet away, I could tell that the Herald was an elven woman, but my blurred vision struggled to make out the details of her face. I leaned in closer, hoping that would help. It did, and there was a split second of not-quite-shock as I recognised her. My very first inquisitor, Taslo Lavellan, was unconscious on the ground at my feet. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move. Something quick and many legged darted around one of the gravity-defying spires behind us. Then another. And another. Shit.  _ There’s _ the demons. 

I looked down at Taslo, her face twisted in pain even in unconsciousness. Shouldn’t she be awake by now? The hoard of demon spiders was getting uncomfortably close. The hair on the back of my neck prickled. I nudged her, carefully at first, but rougher when that got no response. 

“Psst! Hey! Hey! Wake up!”   
Nothing. The spiders were close enough to hear now, the clicking of their legs and mandibles grating up my spine. A sharp tearing noise, like an explosion but not quite. The glowing spirit in the shape of Divine Justinia, in front of a rift at the top of a nearby rise. It was all happening, and it was happening  _ now _ . Showtime. I scooped up the unconscious elf, and began absolutely booking it towards the rift. Now would be a really bad time to discover that this body had asthma too, I thought distantly. Thankfully the wheezing never started, my lungs just as steady as I ran as they were when I was resting. Seems like the being that sent me here gave me the fully functioning model. Being able to actually breathe made the whole ‘running’ thing a lot easier, but I was still unused to this body, had an armful of unconscious elf, and a horde of demon spiders getting uncomfortably close to my backside. Spirit-Justinia reached out to us, beckoning, and I put on a desperate burst of speed just as the leading spider snapped at my leg. I careened through the rift shoulder first, shielding Taslo’s body with my own. The gap between worlds felt like electric jello, cold and tingling, and it gave under my charge with an elastic snap. My next step met nothing but thin air. Balls. A sickening moment of freefall ended with a graceless thud as the wind was forcefully knocked out of me. My first glimpse of Thedas was nothing but a blur of white and black as my momentum rolled the two of us across the ground. It resolved into a barren winter landscape of ice and stone as we came to rest in a snowdrift, a sizable scar of displaced snow and dirt trailing behind us. Talk about making an impact.

The snow actually felt pretty damn good on my bruised-up self, so I shoved Lavellan (better stop being so familiar, I don’t actually know the woman) off of me and flopped back down. My vision was starting to go black around the edges when the shouts of the to-be-Inquisition’s soldiers reached me. I figured it’d probably be fine for me to pass out now. Forgive a girl some blood loss, it’d been a long few hours and quite frankly? I deserved it.

  
  


When I woke up, my whole body ached like I’d been hit by a car, but at least my vision was back to normal and my head wasn’t throbbing quite as much. Is this what magical healing does? If so, I’m going to make it a personal mission to get whoever it was who healed me a gift basket. My beautifully non-blurry vision registered a damp looking stone ceiling lit by the steady flickering of firelight. I was lying on something hard and prickly, my wrists bound with a solid length of rope. I groaned. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say these were the Chantry dungeons in Haven. It took a bit of maneuvering, but I was eventually able to push myself upright. The motion was accompanied by a symphony of crackles and pops from my joints and spine. Seems like turbo-launching yourself between dimensions can be a bit rough on the ol’ flesh prison. Not to mention, the straw ‘mattress’ I’d been laying on was essentially useless in terms of padding the stone floor. 

A banging on the bars of the cell had me jump. A guard was leaning against it, his features hidden in shadow.

“Hey! Ox-girl! You awake in there?”

 A few coughs cleared enough of the dust off my vocal chords to croak out an affirmative. Not much, but apparently that was enough for him. He withdrew from the door and began walking away. A few moments later, I heard the creaking of footsteps on stairs followed by the thud of a heavy door closing. Boy oh boy, I bet he’s off to get the interrogation party.

Shit, what was I going to tell them? The truth? Yeah, I can’t see that going over well. Bits of it, maybe. That could work. They’re going to want a name, too. Somehow, it didn’t feel right to carry my human name into Thedas. I’d died, after all. It was only fitting that my old name would be put to rest as well. I resolutely did  _ not _ think about all the people who’d called that name in the rotting world I’d left behind. That’s an awful lot of baggage to unpack, but I’d rather just throw the whole suitcase away for now. Time for that later. 

A new name...it would need to be something I’d recognise, but wouldn’t hurt so much to hear. I’d never been great with names, so I settled back against the wall to think. The stone at my back was just about as comfortable as the straw under my rear, so I was about as comfortable as I was going to get for the time being. I mulled over my various choices, discarding some and mentally filing others away, all the while staring at the flickering flame of the torch across the hall. I’d always found there to be something wonderfully hypnotic about fire. I’d spent many a cold winter evening as a child curled up in front of the fireplace, simply watching the flames and building stories out of the shapes I saw there. I’m not sure how much time passed before I heard the door at the top of the stairs open again. I shook myself out of my reverie and steeled my nerves. Time to face the music. Three sets of footsteps this time, descending the stairs. One I recognised as the guard. One, so quiet I could barely hear them, had to be Leliana. The third set was heavy and accompanied by the clank of metal. Maybe Cassandra, maybe a templar. Whoever it was, they were armored.

I could feel my heart rate rising as the footsteps approached. Three figures came into view, two making their way to the door of my cell and the other standing at attention against the far wall. The door swung open, and the figures resolved themselves into Cassandra and Leliana, just as I’d expected. Cassandra’s sword was unsheathed, clenched tightly in an armored fist. If looks could kill, I’d definitely be a smoldering pile of ash on the floor. I gulped. I knew I was probably a suspect in the Divine’s murder, but facing down an angry Cassandra was… a lot. This was a woman who would happily kill me right here if she could. Leliana’s posture was deceptively relaxed, but the aura she exuded was ice cold. If Cassandra was willing to execute me right now, Leliana was ready to do whatever it took to get me to talk and if that happened to end in a slow and painful death? So be it. I couldn’t help but shrink backwards as they approached. Forget ‘good cop, bad cop’, this was more of a ‘pick the way you want to die’ situation. 

Leliana was the one to break the heavy silence. Her eyes bored into me like spikes of ice, but her voice was soft and smooth as silk. “You were not seen at the Conclave. Who are you, and why did you come here if not for that?”

I vaguely regretted leaning against the wall. Nowhere else to escape to, you see. Time to act my heart out. The best lies are pearls formed around a grain of truth, after all. 

“I- I’m Leda. The Conclave? I thought I was dead! What happened?”

I hoped I was imagining the creak of metal as Cassandra’s gauntleted hand tightened further on the hilt of her sword. 

“Liar!” She growled, taking a half-step forward. Almost unconsciously, she began to raise her weapon. I shrunk even further, practically flattening myself against the wall. Leliana’s hand snapped out, halting her in her tracks. Judging by the pure venom in Cassandra’s eyes, that was probably the only reason she didn’t decapitate me on the spot. The words spilled out of me in a rush.

“I’m not! I promise I’m not lying! There was fire and I couldn’t breathe and then I woke up in the Fade!” The panic in my voice wasn’t faked at all. Reality was finally hitting. I was in Thedas. This was my life now. Oh holy fuck, I was doomed. 

“So you claim you were not at the Conclave at all?” Leliana’s voice was pensive as she ignored my hyperventilating with the ease of a trained professional. “You had no armor, no weapons. Only the elf woman you brought with you. Who is she?”

“I don’t know, but she was hurt and unconscious and there were demons coming! She told me to help so I did!” Whoops. List of things I should not have said: that. 

“She?” Leliana’s voice was soft, inquisitive, but you’d have to be a fool to trust it. She had something to grab onto here, and she was going to pull it out of me no matter what it took. “I am assured that you are not a mage, so you cannot be possessed. What is it that spoke to you?”

Ok, think fast. “There was a woman. She felt...powerful but kind, like I could trust her. There was so much light, I couldn’t see her face.” 

Leliana paused, considering. Cassandra had a bizarre look on her face, like she’d put two and two together, reached five, and upon checking her work discovered that one of the twos was actually a three in disguise the whole time.

Leliana focused in on me once again, but her voice was noticeably gentler. “And what is it that you do, that you came here entirely unarmed?”

“I’m...I’m an artist.”

She nodded, seemingly satisfied, and turned to follow Cassandra to the door. Had that been some sort of test? Did I pass it? 

  
“Wait!” I called. “The elven woman, is she alright?”

Cassandra, still lost in thought, simply ignored me, but Leliana paused in the doorway. 

“She has not yet woken. The mark on her hand is sapping her strength, but the healers say she will survive.” 

With that, the cell door swung shut behind her, the lock clicking into place. Neither of them paused as they climbed the stairs, and the door swung shut behind them, leaving me with only the guard for company. He didn’t seem like he’d be a great conversation partner, considering the insults he slung at me earlier. I heaved a massive sigh. Now I just had to wait and see if they decided to have me executed or not. Replaying the conversation in my head, I resisted the urge to bang the back of my head against the wall. Why’d I have to mention Not-Galadriel? Why can’t I keep my damn mouth shut when I need to? 

A realization struck like a lightning bolt a moment later. It all made sense! Leliana’s attitude, Cassandra’s confusion...A sinking feeling settled in my gut. Fuck me, I might just be Andraste’s holy prophet now. (That, or they think I’m utterly insane.) That was  _ not _ part of the plan.

Well, No going back now,  _ Leda. _ We’ll just have to see how it all plays out. With that, I decided to do what I always did when the stress got to be too much. I flopped over onto that terrible straw mat they called bedding and closed my eyes. Naps may not solve everything, but they sure as hell don’t hurt. Thankfully, I didn’t dream at all. 

My nap was rudely interrupted some time later by Mr. Rude Guard banging his gauntleted fists on the cell door again. Come on, man, you know my name now, use it! Ah, but that would be humanizing the prisoners. Best stick to making a god-awful racket instead. I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him. There was a jangling of metal as he unhooked a large ring of keys from his belt.

“You’re a lucky one, ox-girl,” he growled as he unlocked the door, “the Seeker’s decided you’re not dangerous. Stairs are to the right, now get out.”

I was up on my feet and at the door almost before he finished his sentence. I was ready to blast past and get right on out when I stopped in my tracks. I knew this body was tall, but now I was standing next to a grown man whose head didn’t even reach my chin! The mind boggles. Truly. A rough shove into my still-bruised side jolted me into movement again, and this time I kept right on going. Apparently somebody didn’t appreciate the delay.

The main hall of the Chantry was dimly lit and full of smoke. I walked through as quickly as I could without looking like I was running from something. It was a nice enough place, but the looks some of the humans in there were giving me? Not so nice. They were practically itching to toss me right back down into that cell, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to do anything that could be seen as ‘suspicious behavior’. 

The sunlight that greeted me as I pushed open the door was blinding. I’d spent all my time in Thedas so far locked in a dungeon, so I hadn’t been ready for just how  _ bright _ everything was. Even squinting could only do so much, so I waited as the town of Haven slowly came into view around me. It was bigger than the game showed, but I’d expected that. A handful of cabins, a smithy, and a church do not an Inquisition make. The scent of woodsmoke and livestock filled the air as people went about their daily lives below me, their various layers of clothing pulled tight against the cold. 

I shivered, hugging my torso tightly. The clothes this body had come with were alright, but they were decidedly not winter wear. Gotta fix that somehow. Alright, current inventory: boots, comfortable. Trousers and tunic, serviceable but chilly. Absolutely nothing in the way of cash, barterable items, or marketable skills. Looking around, I concluded gloomily that Haven probably didn’t have a roaring art commission market going either. Too bad that’s literally all I’m trained to do! Hell, I didn’t even know if I was literate here. By some stroke of luck or divine intervention, (heh, good one. Y’know, Divine Justinia? Whatever.) I could understand the spoken language just fine, but the odds of a roman alphabet being used were slim to none. 

The pointed looks from passers-by were getting sharper, so I hopped off the Chantry steps and away from the main thoroughfare. I needed somewhere to hole up and plot if I was going to survive here, so I might as well get the lay of the land while I was at it. The tavern was an easy find, as were the stables: just follow the respective smells of food and horse. Haven was apparently allergic to signage and I wasn’t about to go knocking on random doors in hopes of finding the apothecary, so that was right out. Circling the wall found several privies (blech and also  _ oh no _ ), trash piles (expected), and eventually lead me down to the gates. By then my extremities were getting pretty numb, but Varric’s usual firepit was not only lit but completely unattended! I settled in next to it to thaw out, and tried to make myself as inconspicuous as a seven-foot, uncoordinated tal-vashoth could possibly be. 

I tossed in a chunk of wood from a nearby pile and stared at the flames, fidgeting with a stick that had fallen off. I’d been staving off a slowly building anxiety attack for as long as possible, distracting myself with exploring and mental commentary, but it was about to come crashing down whether I liked it or not. My heart rate was speeding up, my empty stomach beginning to churn with nausea. This was gonna be a doozy, for sure. I took a deep breath and let it out in a huge sigh, focusing my thoughts away from the imminent emotional chaos. 

First, list the problems. I’m literally a stranger in a strange land. I have no resources, no home, no connections, and no marketable skills. Alright, that’s a pretty raw deal. Now, possible solutions and actionable items. Manual labor is always needed, so I could probably find odd jobs. If I get hired as a worker or servant here, there’s probably assigned quarters, or I could go looking and see if the abandoned cabins from the game are still there. If I can read, I could get on Adan’s good side by bringing him those notes if they’re out there. Food’s a bit of an issue for now, but employment would hopefully work that out. My stomach, traitor that it was, chose that moment to let out a rumbling growl. The sun was beginning to set, painting the winter sky a beautiful pale pink. I sighed again. Job hunting would probably have to wait until tomorrow, so I reluctantly resigned myself to being hungry for a while. At least thinking things through kept the worst of the anxiety down. It wasn’t like I hadn’t skipped meals before, though usually it was because I’d forgotten that people need things like that to live. The stick in my hands was looking decidedly worse for wear with all the fidgeting it had borne. I snapped it in half and tossed it into the fire, resisting the urge to blow a raspberry as I did so. I glared at it as it burned, as if somehow it was the cause of all my problems. Lost in the crackling flames, I somehow failed to realize that someone had come up beside me until they cleared their throat  _ right in my ear. _

If I was a cat I’d have puffed out to twice my size right then and there. I whipped my head around to stare at the culprit and had to resist the urge to bury my head in my hands. Of  _ course _ . Varric Tethras, in the flesh, was staring at me and trying to muffle his laughter. 

“You’re a jumpy one, aren’t you?” He was smirking, clearly amused by my surprise. He shot me a roguish wink as he continued. “The name’s Varric Tethras. Maybe you’ve heard of me.” I resisted the urge to pout, stick out my tongue, or do anything else particularly childish. 

“I’m only jumpy when people sneak up on me.” I looked him up and down as I spoke. I have to say, the game did him kinda dirty. I’d never given him a second look when I played, but in person he had a definite rugged handsomeness to him. If the whole Inquisition ended up being unfairly pretty, I was gonna riot. His head was also approximately level with mine, despite me being seated and him standing straight. That was gonna be weird to deal with. 

He grinned. “So, do you have a name or am I gonna have to make one up? I’m thinking...Crystal? Or maybe Lamb?” He looked me up and down as he spoke, his eyes catching on my horns. 

I cleared my throat. “It’s Leda. My name is Leda. And ‘Lamb’ for the horns, right? But why ‘Crystal’?” 

He waved a hand dismissively. “You’ve got nice eyes. Not really working for me, though. Eh, good nicknames take time anyways.”

The corner of my mouth ticked up despite myself. “So do you give nicknames to everyone you meet or what?”

“Nah, just the interesting ones. And you’re definitely interesting.”

“That’s one way to put it, for sure.” I sighed for what felt like the millionth time. “Mark my words, this is gonna be a mess and where will I be? Right in the middle.” I finally gave in and blew a raspberry in the general direction of the Chantry. “Still waiting for the scary ladies up there to decide whether I’m completely insane or not, but I’m apparently harmless enough to get tossed out on my ass and free up a cell.” I grimaced. “At least I got food and a place to sleep in there.” Right on cue, my stomach made itself known with a horribly loud grumble. 

Varric snorted. “Say, let’s make a deal. You tell me why you came barreling out of the Fade carrying a passed-out elf, and I buy you dinner.”   
“What, just for that?” I raised an eyebrow. Now that’s an offer out of left field. But hey! Dinner! No way was I gonna pass that up.  

He grinned. “Like I said, you’re an interesting one. And interesting people? They’ve got interesting stories. I’m really just looking out for myself here, an author’s gotta get his material somewhere!”

“Fair enough.” I got to my feet, wincing a little at the stiffness in my legs. “Don’t blame me if it gets boring.” Internally, I was panicking a little. Free food is free food, but now I had to figure out what to say. I needed all the allies I could get, and the truth was exactly the kind of thing that could get me in trouble on that front. At the same time, lying would only get me in trouble down the road. With a mental shrug, I decided to wing it. Varric had started walking sometime during my internal debate, but the length of my new legs made catching up a breeze. He looked up at me as I reached his side.

 “What’s with the grin? I know I’m lovely company but you were looking pretty glum a minute ago.” 

I...hadn’t even noticed. Huh. “Just thinking about how things are looking up. I mean hey, I get to eat tonight! Not an option I expected to be… _back on the table_.” My grin grew even wider when Varric snorted. Hell yeah, shitty puns are a universal constant.   
“Oh, that was _terrible_. See, I knew I was gonna like you.” He pushed the tavern doors open, and chattering voices spilled out in a wash of firelit warmth. “I’ll go order, you find us a table and get comfortable. I wanna hear _everything_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characterization is hard.........so is nicknaming.
> 
> Completely rewritten as of 12/4/19. Happy Dragon Age Day!


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